A Day in the Life of a Singapore Girl

Back in the early '90's in Australia, there was an ad for a telephone calling card where they depicted Singaporeans as rice paddy farmers. My mother nearly having a fit when she saw this commercial.

"Rice paddy farmers?!!? If anybody should be wearing those hats, it should be the Australians," is what she said.

If you look at the photos of Orchard Road (closest shopping district to my home,) you'd understand why.


Calling S'poreans "rice paddy farmers" is like trying to call New York a "cute little country town". They should have swapped the pointy hat for shopping bags.

The highlights so far:
I gatecrashed some party in Paragon inappropriate attired (casual sun dress and gladiator sandals); goes to show that it's all about your attitude and a glass of champagne in your hand.


(Above: Me, the Cousins & the Goodie Bag)
Cousin JY was eyeing at their goodie bags while we were heading up the escalator to Sushi Tei. I volunteered to try and get her one, although the act of getting the freebies was more fun than the actual freebies themselves. The bag comprised of some glossy magazines showcasing designer goods and various high society parties.....so pretty boring stuff, nothing I can afford as an unemployed bum.

Embodying the true S'porean spirit is one's love of two things: shopping and eating.
Okay, make that three things as we also love taking photos of our food.


(Above: Chinese Baked Goodies from Bread Talk)

(Below: Dragon Fruit from the Supermarket; One of my Favourite Snacks - Snow Pea Chips!)


Caught up with L. on Saturday for some serious shopping and eating.

We lunched at the Black Pig over tonkatsu & udon followed by dinner at Mellben Season for butter crab beehoon.
We tried to take photos of ourselves and the crab beehoon but no such luck.

Then we got one of the guys serving to take the photo of us, and still no luck. (Yes, I did tell him to take a photo of us AND the beehoon, some people obviously can't frame photos.....)

Such is life.....

Like all true S'porean girls, L. thinks she is fat (when she is actually skinny). We went shopping for jeans, in my case this meant trying and not buying. I'm think I must be fairly good at hiding my ahem, additional padding, because when I asked for a size 27 jeans, L. commented that I surely couldn't be that large, and what do you know.....we're exactly the same size. L. stopped commenting about being fat after that :p Went to another store where I asked the sales girl for a size small, and she interrupted me to let me know that she was wearing an extra small, insinuating that I would be the same size. Wrong again. Now I know that I'm not "fat", but I do have a spare tyre around the middle that I need to lose...... *sigh*

L. & I spent a couple of hours at the Japanese shopping centre which was just enthralling.....

One thing I absolutely love doing when visiting another country, is to have a wander through their supermarkets to get an idea of what the local people eat. That and seeing whether there are any equivalents to something back at home. (For instance, Wotsits from the UK are the equivalent to cheezels in Oz.) I'm a real sucker for all things kitschy, so combine Japanese with supermarket.....you may very well lose me there for the whole entire day.

Everything is just so....fascinating. The Panda's a tad creepy though and kinda looks stoned. Actually, the car looks worse.


Event the cleaning products look fascinating....



Many people seem to have a fear of trying something when they have no idea what it is. I'm the complete opposite and ended up buying a whole lot of Japanese snacks where I basically didn't know what they were. (L.: "Why are you buying things when you don't know what they are?")

Strawberry chocolate coated wafer balls



"Choco-puddings" - Japan's answer to Top Deck.


Training chopsticks


The Singaporean Perception on Ireland
When S'poreans ask me where I've been these past two years, the conversation generally goes something like this:
I tell them "Ireland," and it takes them a while to register that I've said "Ireland," and not "Island". After that, they sort of look at me and ask, "Isn't Ireland soggy grassy knolls, tractors and farm land, and basically......boring?". Ergo, why would somebody like me want to go and work there?
Hmm, I see their point. Maybe I'm not so un-Singaporean after all.
Then, the next question is whether I worked and lived in Dublin, as anything out of the capital city....well, you might as well have slit your wrists as didn't that mean you were living on some farm with cows....?

And then my Irish paper driver's license......aside from the fact that it looks "fake" with the sticky taped passport photo on a piece of paper, the Singaporeans puzzle over the last picture icon, and I have to tell them that that is the category for a tractor license.

Goodbye Country Hello Night Hub

The Final Festival of Me in London and Excerpts from the Journey Home......
18th September, Scavenger Hunt Time!!!


For those of you who told me that you don't "do" activities and just wanted to drink, you guys really missed out...... Running around in the historical city of London, really was fun :) Ironically, we were in team "Hufflepuff" - and were also the slowest. If only we had another 30minutes - we probably could have won the thing :p~

A big thank you to everybody who made it to dinner and drinks..... J., I want the other photos when you have some time! :)




....and to H. for making it to a very early fry-up at cafe 338 in Bethnal Green. (I am quitting drinking.....for the umpteenth time.)

Sadly, I was too hungover to participate in the Sunday Stroll, so instead of blading 10 miles, I went back to bed.

I woke up on in the evening feeling slightly better and went to see Daragh O'Brien (the comedian) with M. The show wasn't particularly funny.... I'm still searching for that comedian who makes me laugh until my stomach hurts. During the audience participation section of the show, Daragh talked about dreams, and whether anyboy had ever dreamt about a celebrity. It turns out that the majority of these dreams either involve marriage or something a little risque. I confess that I have had neither of these dreams. In fact, the last celebrity dream I had (or more like that last one I can remember,) involved Anderson Cooper. I was having a very enthralling political discussion with him, until my alarm clock interrupted our conversation. I very reluctantly dragged myself to work, sat at my desk for an half hour, before realising nobody else was at work. Yes, I had gone to work on an entitled day off. I then drove home, went straight to bed, willed myself to continue the same dream, but very annoyingly could not. After living in Ireland where the guys grunt, drink beer and drive tractors and talk to their cows, you too would be upset if you interrupted a wonderful conversation with THE Mr Anderson Cooper. *sigh*

20th September, 7:20pm GTM, London Heathrow Terminal 5
BA to Frankfurt
And then, before I know it, it's almost time to say goodbye and good night to London. I am in awe of the number of readily available seats at my gate - is that normal? Everybody is carrying two hand carry bags (hand bags and a small wheely bag,) but none of the staff seem to care. The variety of free newspapers prior to boarding the plane, the fact that I don't have to brave the elements and walk along the tarmac.... I always tell people that I dread flying BA (crappiest long haul commercial airline bar the American ones IMO,) but I'm pleasantly surprised by the staffs' friendliness (I recall that they are generally abrupt and always going on strike?!) and the roominess of the seat and leg room and the front seat pocket.... Then it suddenly hits me - I've been flying European budget airlines for far too long. (Damn you, Ryanair, you cheap bastards.)

Final thank you's to...
J. for baking me that chocolate muffin! The lopsided bow on the box was the sweetest looking thing..... Only a boy would do something like that :)


Also big thanks to E. for organising all the festivities.

20th September, 10:50pm, GMT +1, Frankfurt Terminal 2
Qantas to Singapore
I notice a distinct difference between London and Frankfurt security (needing the transit there as I booked my flight through my Qantas frequent flyer points). In London, I remove everything metal bar my ring, small stud earrings and necklace and still set off the alarm. (I swear this only happens so that they have an excuse to search everyone.) In Frankfurt, I start removing my belt when the security guard tells me that it's not necessary, somewhat alarmed as though I'm attempting to disrobe in front of small German kinder. I am somewhat displeased that I have to go through security again for my connecting flight.

"I wouldn't have bought cosmetics if I had known," I say crossly, thinking that they were going to be confiscated (and then be given to some German security employee's wife). The Germans seem nonplus and say that it's all okay, and don't even ask me to separate my clear plastic bags from my bigger hand carry. Just to let you know that I do not set off the alarm even with my belt, and all my jewelry. Blah. Oh, one of the security guys also asks me if I am from Singapore, (somewhat impressive from the usual lame "ni hao's" and "konnichiwa's" that I normally get,) until I realise that the security line is very close to the Frankfurt to Singapore gate.

21st September, sometime in the early hours of the morning, Qantas Economy
I manage to sleep part of the way and watch one movie (Sex & the City 2). SATC 2 is shit, so thank God I didn't pay to watch it. I want peppermint tea at some point during the flight, press the attendant button.......and nothing happens. I end up flagging down a flight attendant during one of the trolley service rounds. It's official: as Dustin Hoffman said in Rainman, "Qantas sucks".

21st September, 6pm GTM +8, Singapore Airport, Terminal 2
I get off the plane some 13 hours later, extremely relieved. The lady next to me tells me that she's on transit waiting to fly back to Auckland..... I can't imagine doing that after 13 hours of flying..... Immigration is a breeze with practically no queue in the "All Passports" line. I notice that there are TEN, yes London, TEN desks opened for the "All Passports" line. Perhaps London can learn a thing or two from Singapore..... If you want to ask people silly question, why don't you open more than two desks so that people don't have to wait two hours in the line.....?

Then I realise, my four year stint in Europe is officially over. Missing all you people in London already. X

Postcards from Lisbon

15.09.2010
Dear (insert name)

I'm having a wonderful time in the city of Lisbon. Sadly, for a country that's supposed to be all sunshine and blue skies, it is raining today. I have been told by the guy who runs the hostel that it hasn't rained since July, so perhaps I brought the rain with me from London.

I am staying in a hostel which is more like a nice, cosy apartment in the "downtown" area of Lisbon called Baixa. It's definitely the prettiest hostel I've stayed in so far. In the mornings, there is a lady who comes in to make us scrambled eggs for breakfast. I tried to do the my own washing up, and she frowned and waved me away. It's almost like being at "home" in Singapore again. :)
(Below: Travellers House, Lisbon)

I spent today in the moument packed districted called Belem.




They have their own version of the San Francisco Golden Gate bridge designed by the same architect!

I joined the queue at the famous Antiga Confeitaria de Belem for their scrumptuous Portugese egg tarts.

Sprinkled with icing sugar and nutmeg, they are truly "90 cents of pure happiness". The egg custard centre is smooth, the sides of the pastry casing are delicious flakey, and there's a wonderful crunchy pastry base on the bottom. I'll be dreaming about these little tarts in years to come.

Tried the spit roasted chicken at Bonjardim (famous for its peri peri chicken). Gate crashed another party of one (thank you C.!) so that we could share the peri peri chicken for two. Wouldn't recommend the creamed spinach. It had the consistency of vitamised food, (reminiscent of nursing home food,) and just tasted a little.....strange......

Just realised I never took a photo with C. Nobody's going to believe that I now have a twenty-something year old friend who works for the UN in New York, are they...?

Send my love to (insert name).

xx

Closetblonde

16.09.2010

Dear (insert name)

Today I went to Sintra, which is a quaint little mountain town about an hour away from Lisbon.

It's a hilly town with windy narrow alleyways, and many castles. It use to be the place where the wealthy had their holiday homes, hence the number of castles around the place.

The big thing to buy in Portugal is that rooster figurine.

I didn't buy one for you as I figured that you wouldn't want another tacky souvenir from a place that you've never visited. Majority of the shops in Sintra were of the souvenir kind, but there was one gem of a cafe where I stopped for queijadas (Sintra cheesecake) and travesseiro (pillow shaped pastry filled with almonds and egg custard). "A pillow of pure happiness" is what the guy at the hostel said.

Yes I had both, and yes, I feel my waistline expanding.

I did the usual Palacio e Quinta de Regaleira, Castelo dos Mouros & Palacio Naxional da Pena.

(Below: Palacio e Quinta de Regaleira)

I made the mistake of walking down to the see the Santa Maria church from Castelo dos Mouros (the old Moorish fort). It basically got me back into town which was the opposite direction of where I needed to go.

(Below: Castelo dos Mouros)

The church was less than than thrilling, to say the least.

The Palacio Naxional da Pena (the Moorish Palace) was by far my favourite. I just love the way the Moors work with colour.

I ended the day having arroz de marisco (seafood rice) at O Galera (rua Bacal Hoeiros) with my new dinner buddy. They don't seem to use claw crackers over here - they seem to prefer using mallets which proved to be an extremely messy dinner with the lobster and the crab. The seafood rice reminded me of Chinese rice porridge - the less mushy version, that is.

We stopped by an ice-cream parlour later for some (unnecessary) ice-cream. Portugal seems to still have a strong affiliation with Brazil even though the countries are far from each another distance wise. There seems to be plenty of Brazilian people over here and the ice-cream palour was offering ice-cream flavours made out of local Brazilian fruits such as the acai.

I hope my cat's behaving herself and hasn't been trying to get into the kitchen cupboards again. Please remind (insert name) to water my plants.

xx

Closetblonde

17.09.2010

Dear (insert name)

It was a beautiful day today in Lisbon, so I decided to take a long walk.

It is a city of tiled buildings, and the walkways are mosaic in pattern, made out of smooth marble stone that tends to make one's feet to slip. I saw an old lady hobbling on crutches with her leg in plaster. I bet she slipped and fell on the pavement.

You can tell that Portugal is a "poor European country". The city lacks that glossy chain store/mass consumerism feel that affected most of its other western counterparts.

The facades of buildings are generally faded and in poor repair, the stores and shops are small and family run, and look as though they haven't been changed since the 60's. Lisbon is unintentionally retro, and it's somewhat refreshing not to have a McDonald's and Starbucks lurking on every street corner.

I spied these sardines in a small little corner shop. I thought they were too cute for words with their unintentionally retro packing. I would have bought some as gifts but then....somebody seems to like sardines.

There was a really cool sweet shop near my hostel where they custom make their own hard boiled sweets. I ended up buying a few as gifts.

The guy that was serving me was extremely gay and extremely snooty.

I took a break mid-morning to have pastries at the famed Confeitaria Nacional.

I also tried their egg tart, but it just wasn't as good as Antiga's. I later stopped at a restaurant called Restaurante Esquina da Fe, found on a small side street off Rue Sao Jose. Yup, it's another one of those "hole in the wall" gem sort of places. I had a simple but tasty meal of pork chop and chips. (Left the creamed spinach behind - they seem to like that thing over here.)


Anyway, wish you were here (and all that jazz). Heard about what happened with (insert name) at that party when (insert event) happened!! Tell me all the details when I see you!

Much love,
Closetblonde.

17th September 2010
To the Ex-Housemates:
Fuck you. Have fun marrying your cousins.

Closetblonde.